


Shaken

by secondhand_watermelon



Series: Tumblr Prompts: Wheel of Mythicality Endings [4]
Category: Rhett & Link
Genre: Affection, Earthquakes, Friends to Lovers, Kissing, M/M, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Protectiveness, Tumblr Prompt, Wheel of Mythicality
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-10
Updated: 2020-05-10
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:01:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24115429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/secondhand_watermelon/pseuds/secondhand_watermelon
Summary: From the Wheel of Mythicality Endings prompts: EarthquakeWhen an earthquake shakes the GMM studios, Rhett is forced to employ an old technique for calming Link. This time, there's some new repercussions.
Relationships: Rhett McLaughlin/Link Neal
Series: Tumblr Prompts: Wheel of Mythicality Endings [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1664602
Comments: 2
Kudos: 65





	Shaken

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sohox](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sohox/gifts).



> Many thanks to soho-x of Tumblr for providing this prompt!

The wheel spun, and Link leaned forward onto his balled-up hands, resting his face in between them and his elbows on the desk as he peered into the camera. He gave the fans a cheesy grin and a playful wink before whispering, “Welcome to Good Mythical More” with wide, dramatic eyes. He had been in a goofy mood all morning, and Rhett barely spared an amused glance at his antics before reading off, “Random. Disturbing. Fact!”

The wheel had changed years ago, going from improv prompts to options that allowed the two men to remain in their seats as episodes transitioned from more stationary chats and question challenges to active game shows, wedgie machines, and cheese wheels. Sometimes one or the other of them would admit to missing the old sketch opportunities, but times changed. Link closed his eyes, waiting for Rhett to read off the day’s  _ potentially  _ disturbing fact.

“On average, California experiences an earthquake every other day, with a magnitude of 3 on average,” Rhett read aloud. Link blinked and tilted his head toward his friend with mild curiosity, chin still in his hands.

“That so,” he drawled, interested but not overly disturbed. After all, California was a lot bigger than Los Angeles.

“Yep,” Rhett replied, popping his  _ p _ and tossing the piece aside. “But come on, you guys, you gotta cook up more than a bitty-earthquake-somewhere-in-the-state fact to scare us!”

The crew chuckled, and Link stretched dramatically with a particular loud groan as Rhett reached for the paddles needed for their game in the More. As he handed one to Link, both men felt a faint vibration under their feet.

“Uh.” Rhett looked into the camera, then behind it to Morgan, who had cocked his head. “Guys?”

The vibrations rapidly grew stronger, with a loud rumbling following in its wake. Link’s eyes widened, and he gestured to Morgan and Casey to have the cameras cut. “Shit,” he breathed out.

“What are the freaking chances?” Rhett mumbled, turning immediately to seek out his friend. They’d been through a few bigger earthquakes now, after years in California, but he knew they still tended to make Link pretty anxious. Sure enough, Link’s face was pale and his fingers were digging into the edge of the desk. “C’mon, man, let’s get under the desk.”

Around them, crew were scrambling for safer spots and trying to tuck away more fragile equipment. The building was shaking significantly now, and as Rhett tugged Link under the desk with him, he heard the twanging  _ thunk _ of one of the decorative guitars sliding off the wall and crashing to the floor.

“Shit, shit,  _ shit, _ ” Link whispered. His arms were wrapped around one of the desk legs, and Rhett stared at him for a moment, trying to figure out what to do. He could see Link’s pulse throbbing rapidly in his throat and the sweat prickling at his temples; his friend’s breathing was fast and shallow and his eyes were screwed shut. He was probably on the verge of a panic attack.

“Okay, man, it’s okay,” Rhett said softly. The desk vibrated and shook above them, and Link whimpered.

“I can’t help it,” he said, and Rhett nodded.

“I know, it’s not your fault. I got an idea. Lay down.”

“What? No!”

Rhett tugged Link closer, nearly into his arms, barely convincing the other man to release his death grip on the desk. He could hear more things shaking off the walls to the floor around them, a few urgent voices in the halls, but he could only concentrate on himself, and Link, here underneath the solid GMM desk. “Lay down. Come on. Grab the legs with your hands and brace your feet on the opposite ones.” He slid out from under the desk, for just a second, groaning with the effort and letting out a soft grunt when one of the chairs hit his back as the room continued to shake. “Hurry up, come on, do it.”

Link obeyed, shaking and panting, shifting his body until he was lying prone beneath the desk, flat on his belly, his hands clinging to the legs on Rhett’s side and his feet curled around the legs on his own. Rhett moved slowly, body vibrating, keeping his head ducked as low as possible until he was kneeling between Link’s legs, bent nearly double.

“Okay, don’t freak out. I’m gonna lie down too.”

“What? Where?” Link gasped, his eyes flying open, craning his neck to try and look back at his friend. Rhett grimaced.

“On you. Like a weighted blanket.” Link blinked, and Rhett sighed. “Remember?”

They usually left it out of their ‘UFC phase’ stories, figuring two young men saving themselves for marriage and also wrestling in their underwear in their dorm room was an interesting enough combination for their fans. But they had discovered, during a time when they often only had each other, that when Link’s anxiety - over school, grades, girlfriends, God - sometimes spiraled out of control, Rhett’s patented  _ dead move _ could serve as a way to calm Link in times of stress. At first, Link fought it, furious with what he saw as his friend’s attempts to mock or control him, but eventually he would calm beneath the weight of Rhett’s body. Eventually, there were a few times when Link even asked for it. But they hadn’t tried it in decades.

“Yeah,” Link breathed out at last, his voice trembling with fear and the tremors still rocking the building. “Yeah, do it.”

Rhett carefully lowered himself over his friend, feeling the breath leave Link’s lungs as his chest pressed down over Link’s upper back. They didn’t line up, so Rhett let his feet hang out a bit, draped over Link’s, so his pelvis could rest comfortably in the cradle of the other man’s lower back. He spread his arms, lining them up with Link’s as best he could, and gripped the desk legs as well. Finally, his head settled beside and slightly above Link’s, nose brushing silver-dark hair that smelled like apples. He breathed in and out, slowly.

The room shook, and in the distance, Rhett could hear pots and pans tumbling off the walls in the new Mythical Kitchen. It had been maybe a minute, at most, but felt like a lifetime. Link’s body was warm and trembling under his, and Rhett knew it wasn’t just the earthquake. He couldn’t get any closer, however, so he settled for speaking.

“Everything’s fine, Link. It’s okay. I know you’re freaking out, and I know it’s not your fault. I’m here. You can feel me. I’m gonna protect you, I promise. Just breathe.”

Link struggled a bit beneath him, gasping, and Rhett gritted his teeth as the arch of Link’s back and ass rolled up into his lower body. It was weird, it was a lot, but he could take it. He could work through it, for Link.

“Wanna turn,” Link panted out. Rhett shifted, just a bit, and heard Link bite off a tiny sound.

“Can’t roll over, buddy. This is pretty tough to maintain as it is. Just another minute, maybe. It’s almost over.” And it was true - the vibrations were lessening, and Rhett suspected all major tremors would subside very shortly. Link shook his head, as best he could, and Rhett scrunched up his face at the tickle of his hair.

“No, jus’ my face,” he clarified, and Rhett frowned. “Wanna see you.”

“You can  _ feel  _ me.”

“Please?”

Rhett relented, drawing his head back as far as he could and allowing Link to turn his own. He closed his eyes, unwilling to stare into Link’s face from quite this close and not wanting to analyze exactly  _ why. _ Analysis was for therapy, not earthquakes. But he could feel Link’s warm breath, smelling of coffee and mint, spilling over his lips, and it made him shiver. He risked opening his eyes, and sure enough, Link was right there, bright blue eyes wide open, pupils dilated dark from fear, Rhett assumed. He could feel the struggling rise and fall of Link’s torso beneath his, forced to suck in air more deeply, more slowly, due to the compression of his body. He could feel the restless twitch of Link’s legs under his own, the occasional shift of the other man’s hips against his upper thighs.

He definitely felt it when Link’s hands released the desk legs as the tremors finally died away, turning until their palms connected and their fingers interlaced, hands sliding to the floor.

Rhett’s eyes were closed again, against the intimacy of it, but he could hear when the crew began to shift and shuffle around the room. “Time to get up, buddyroll,” he murmured. Stevie was saying their names, probably emerging from under her own desk and coming to find them and ensure they were safe. It would be best to disentangle, now.

Too quick for Rhett to predict, much less respond, Link leaned in the last six inches between their faces and pressed his lips against Rhett’s. Rhett registered  _ warm, sweet, soft _ before Link was pulling back, wriggling a bit to dislodge the taller man’s body. He blinked his eyes open, too wide, but Link had turned his head again, away from him, and was now squirming in earnest.

“Okay, okay,” he muttered, forgoing the push up to his knees for a curled-up roll off Link’s body, a move that would be better for his back anyway. Rhett was shifting onto his side and then up to a tabletop yoga position as Link crawled out from under the desk and got swiftly to his feet, much more agile than his taller friend. He watched Link hug Stevie hard where she stood just beside the desk, having been about to duck down and peer under it for the two men.

“Hey, you guys are okay. Oh! Damn, Link, you’re sweaty.” Stevie quickly released him, and Rhett got to his feet with a groan and took in the way Link’s tee shirt was clinging to his back, circles of sweat dark under his arms. He was pretty sure his own button down had similar sweat stains. They would need to change, maybe reshoot.

“Anyone hurt?” Link asked loudly. He seemed back to his normal self, if a bit flushed and disheveled. The sound of crew voices reassured them both, and Rhett quietly gave Stevie instructions to have the producers check-in with their teams, assess damage, make sure no one needed medical care.

The room quickly cleared out, except for Morgan and Ben assessing equipment, and Rhett took a moment to study his friend, who was picking up decor from the floor and quietly rearranging it onto the shelves, placing anything damaged on the couch.

“You good?” he asked, moving up behind Link and resting a big hand gently on the other man’s shoulder. Link nodded without turning, placing a trinket onto one of the shelves.

“Yeah, man. Thanks for the assist.”

The corner of Rhett’s mouth turned up a bit in a wry smile. Link never used sports terminology. “You sure?”

“Yeah, yeah, we’re good,” Link said, shrugging off his hand and still refusing to face him. Rhett noted the change in pronoun.

“Are you worried  _ I  _ don’t think we’re good?”

At that, Link finally turned. “Do you?” He cleared his throat. “Think we’re good?”

Rhett heard Ben and Morgan close the side door behind them, arguing about some bit of camera equipment and whether they had a replacement in storage. They were alone now, at least for a moment. “Yes,” he replied quietly, curling both hands over Link’s shoulders and cocking his head in sympathy when Link’s eyes dropped to stare at the floor. “Yeah, we’re good. It’s all okay.”

“I was just scared,” Link said, his voice shaking. Rhett moved one hand up, catching his best friend’s chin with gentle fingers and tilting Link’s face up until their eyes finally met. He leaned in slowly, giving Link a chance to register the movement and draw back if needed. Link remained still, gazing up at him with wide eyes and slightly parted lips. Rhett smiled, reassuringly, and pressed his mouth to Link’s. Still soft, warm, sweet.

Perfect.

“That’s okay,” Rhett murmured, drawing Link into his arms, letting the smaller man fit into his body the way he always had, the way he always would, and pressing another soft kiss into his hair.

“I’m not.”

**Author's Note:**

> Come find me on Tumblr at secondhand-watermelon.


End file.
